“Whadda you mean they ran off?” Naomi asked, popping the cork on the zinfandel.
“They’re gone.” Jessa slumped at the dining room table, already reaching for a wineglass. “Together. I guess they left notes for their spouses or something. It’s all over town.”
“Wow.” Naomi sat across from her while Darla took the head of the table and Cassidy scooted into the chair next to Jessa.
“So what’re you gonna do?” Cass asked, eyes rounded with concern.
“I have no idea.” Jessa helped herself to a few of the truffles. “I mean, I’ve already called every other religious official in town—including that guy who owns the tarot card shop—and no one is available.”
“Maybe Levi will do it,” Darla suggested, topping off her glass. Apparently, Naomi hadn’t poured her enough. “God, I wouldn’t mind seeing him all dressed up in a starched black suit and white collar.” She licked her lips suggestively.
“I’m not having Levi do the wedding.” Jessa rolled her eyes. “You never know what’s going to come out of that man’s mouth.”
Naomi didn’t blame her. The youngest Cortez could be a bit of a wild card.
“What about Lucas?” Cassidy proposed thoughtfully. “He’s pretty well spoken.” She slid a quick glance to Naomi. Her friends always seemed to do that whenever anyone spoke the man’s name. As if they were all afraid of what it did to her.
Not that she’d admit it out loud, but it did quite a lot. Hopefully, they’d missed the bright red flush that turned her face molten.
“I thought about that…” Jessa seemed to study Naomi longer than the rest of them. “But he’s so busy getting everything ready to go back to the McGowen’s ranch for good…”
A gasp hitched her breath. “He’s going back?” The words harnessed the strange mix of relief and sorrow that gathered in her heart. “When?”
“Right after the wedding, as far as I understand.” Jessa eyed her as though trying to gauge her reaction. “Bill McGowen told him he needs him back or he’ll have to find someone else.” She gave Naomi a pointed look. “He’s not here much longer. So there’s not much time.”
Naomi focused on her wineglass, on the shimmery rose-colored liquid. Jessa had hounded her for months to talk to Lucas about her unresolved feelings for him. But her friend didn’t know the real reason those feeling still existed. No one did.
“Not much time for what?” Cassidy demanded, looking back and forth between them suspiciously.
“To screw him, silly,” Darla put in. “To see if he’s still got it.”
“That’s not what she meant,” Naomi said. That wasn’t a concern. Something told her he still had it. “I can’t believe he’s leaving again.” He hadn’t said anything in the car. Though she hadn’t given him much of a chance. “He’s supposed to go to Gracie’s play tomorrow night.”
“You invited him?” Jessa asked happily.
“Not exactly,” she admitted. “Gracie invited him.”
Darla munched on a pretzel. “Maybe you two should go out after the play,” she proposed with peaked eyebrows.
“I’m not going out with him.” They’d all been on her case since he’d arrived back in town, but didn’t they get it? Lucas wasn’t going to stick around. She knew he’d leave again. He wasn’t happy in Topaz Falls. So what good would going out with him do either one of them? He wanted to leave and she was staying. She was opening a bed and breakfast.
Not that she was ready to share that news yet.
“So Gracie invited him,” Cass mused.
Yeah. Her sweet, loving, extroverted daughter had invited him. Which meant she liked him. Which meant she’d get all attached to him and then he’d disappear again. Naomi couldn’t tell if the sadness weighting her heart was for Gracie or for herself.
She stamped it out with anger. “He has no business going to that play.” Why would he be trying to build a friendship with Gracie when he was planning to leave?
“What’re you so upset about?” Darla asked, setting down her wineglass. “You’ve hardly even acknowledged his presence in Topaz Falls. You’ve gone out of your way to avoid him for months.”
Naomi’s face burned. She was upset. She was sad and angry. But not at Lucas. She was upset with herself. The truth was she couldn’t look Lucas in the eyes because she had kept things from him. Things she should’ve told him a long time ago.
“Naomi?” Cassidy reached over to pat her hand. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
They all stared at her with concern and sympathy. Her friends. The ones who’d each spilled their own secrets at one time or another. Darla had told them all about the pain of watching her husband slowly slip away from cancer. Jessa had sobbed over her father’s death. Cassidy had shared everything about taking care of her mother, whose life was shattered after Cassidy’s brother Cash had been killed in a bull-riding accident five years ago.
These were practically her sisters, and though she’d talked about the challenges of being a single mom after Mark left her, she’d never told them all her deepest regret. The secret she’d carried for so many years.
The one she didn’t want to carry anymore.
She rested her forearms on the table, ready for this weight to be lifted off her. Ready to be free of it. “Lucas might be Gracie’s father.” She spoke the words quickly, boldly. That was the only way they could come out. Fast. Direct. Honest. That was it. The truth in all its ugliness.
Darla busted out in gut-splitting laughter.
Cassidy shook her head. “Good one,” she said.
“No. I’m serious.” Her voice had gotten brittle, the last words falling apart. “I never found out for sure, but I might have been pregnant before he was arrested.” In the wake of Lucas’s arrest, she’d fallen apart and found herself in a relationship with Mark. Things had happened so fast. When she’d told Mark she was pregnant he’d asked her to marry him right then and there. She’d told him she had to think about it, and that night she went home and wrote Lucas one more letter. Over the previous two months, she’d written him eight letters, one each week, and all of them had been returned unopened. All these years, she’d kept that final letter. In it, she’d told him there was a chance he was her baby’s father and begged him to write her back, but he hadn’t. He hadn’t even opened the letter. After that, she’d realized she couldn’t do it anymore. She wasn’t angry with him, but she couldn’t hold out hope for someone who kept shutting her out. It had hurt too much. So she’d forced herself to move on.
“Shit.” Darla gawked at her. “Shit! You’re not kidding.”
“Oh my God…” Jessa mumbled, mopping her mouth with a napkin.
“I’m not kidding,” Naomi confirmed, pushing away her plate. She couldn’t even stomach a bite of chocolate right now. “I’ve never told him. Never told anyone. But Mark emailed me twice last week.”
“Mark?” they all said in unison.
“He said he wants to talk to me. About Gracie.” He’d actually used the word “daughter.” His daughter. But she wasn’t. He’d been gone for ten years. And Naomi had always wondered whether he was Gracie’s biological father, but it hadn’t mattered. It hadn’t mattered because Mark had left them and Lucas was gone and they didn’t need anyone. She’d taken care of everything. She’d raised her all on her own.
“That son of a bitch.” Darla slammed her palm on the table, causing a wave of ripples in Naomi’s wine. “I’ll email him back for you. Tell him exactly what I think of his sorry ass.”
“While I’d love to hear that conversation, I don’t think it’ll help much.” Naomi heaved a sigh. “I haven’t written him back.” She wanted those emails to go away. Wanted him to disappear. “I don’t know what he wants, but I’m afraid he’ll try to see her.” And he couldn’t. He couldn’t come in now and destroy everything she’d built for her daughter.
“You have to tell Lucas there’s a possibility he’s Gracie’s father,” Jessa said, still gawking at her. “You have to. He deserv
es to know.”
“Yes. He does,” she uttered in an aching whisper. He deserved to know everything. Finally. After all these years.
She just wasn’t sure how to tell him.
Chapter Three
Just like old times. Lucas rambled into his older brother’s kitchen, greeted by the greasy smell of bacon and eggs and the sizzle of the fryer. Lance stood at the stove stirring and flipping while Levi and their father sat at the table discussing the latest PBR standings as they waited for their breakfast.
“They’ve got you trained, huh?” Lucas asked, lightly socking Lance in the side as he moved past him and sat at the other end of the table.
“I don’t think Levi even knows how to hold a spatula,” his brother said, low enough so that the other two didn’t hear. “And have you ever tasted Dad’s eggs?”
“No, actually. I can’t say I have.” That was because Lance had cooked breakfast for all of them ever since their mom left. It likely had something to do with the fact that Lance had watched her leave early one morning before the sun had even crested the peaks. Lucas had walked into the kitchen when Lance was putting the finishing touches on omelets. Before that, he hadn’t known his brother even knew how to crack an egg. But he’d figured it out that day. They’d all spent those years figuring things out.
“Morning, son.” Luis folded the sports section of the newspaper into neat quarters and laid it on the table in front of him.
“Morning, Dad.” Didn’t matter how many times he said it, that never got old. After he went to prison Lucas didn’t talk to Luis for ten years. He couldn’t stomach the shame he’d seen on the man’s face. But then his father had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s and Jessa had called him to come home. That was all he’d needed. An invitation. He’d been welcomed by his father, who was hunched and arthritic, suffering from persistent tremors and balance issues, though the most recent medication they had him on seemed to be making a difference.
“What happened to your truck?” his father asked. “Didn’t see it outside this morning.”
“It broke down.” The last thing his father needed to hear was how it had broken down. He had enough to worry about.
“I’ll take you to pick it up after our meeting this morning,” Lance said, lugging the food over to the table.
“What meeting?” Levi wasted no time piling his plate full.
Lance hesitated, and Lucas didn’t blame him. They didn’t exactly involve their younger brother in much of the ranch’s business. He was too busy reveling in his bull rider fame and sponsorship opportunities to concern himself with the logistics of a stock contracting operation.
“I’d forgotten Jones was coming today,” Luis said gruffly. He hated forgetting stuff, that much was obvious, but it happened more and more.
“Jones?” Levi repeated skeptically. “As in Brady Jones?”
Everyone connected to the bull-riding world had heard of Brady Jones. The former champion who’d once competed against Luis was now the director of livestock for the largest rodeo circuit in the country.
“Yeah. It’s a big day,” Lance said, his face grim. Over the last six months Lance had invested in new livestock, mainly bucking bulls, to get his operation up and running. Lucas had consulted on a limited basis, but he’d been down in Pueblo off and on, and Bill McGowen had all but told him he’d fire his ass if he sensed any conflict of interest between the two operations. Lucas wasn’t sure he wanted to lose that job.
“If Jones doesn’t contract two or three of our bulls, I’m screwed,” Lance muttered, still looking doubtful.
Lucas wished he felt better about things than his brother did, but he’d seen the bulls Lance had purchased. While they had promise, they weren’t there yet, and Jones was coming today to scout for the next several events. If they didn’t get picked, Lance didn’t get paid, and Lucas happened to know his brother had invested most of his savings.
“I’m happy to stick around and shoot the breeze with him,” Levi offered. He’d already wolfed down most of his breakfast and was casually sipping coffee. Lucas marveled at how young he still looked. It was obvious the three of them were related, but while he and Lance looked more like Luis, Levi reminded him of their mother. His skin was fairer and unmarred by the stress Lance and Lucas had endured over the years.
And yet he didn’t resent his brother. He was glad one of them had had it easier. That’d been the idea when he’d taken the punishment for Levi. He was proud of him. Given the way things had gone after their mother left, Levi could’ve been a complete screwup, but he’d straightened out, left home to train with bull-riding legend Gunner Raines, and become one of the infamous Raines’ Renegades, a group of traveling riders who also made quite the haul in sponsorships.
“Actually, I could use your help patching some siding today,” Luis said to his youngest son. Lucas had to smile. Their father didn’t think Levi should get involved any more than they did. Besides that, someone had to watch Luis when he did projects. They couldn’t have him falling off a ladder or something.
“Lance and I have got this.” He finished off his own breakfast quickly then shoved his plate toward Levi. “And since Lance cooked, you’re on dish duty.” Before Levi could argue, Lucas motioned to Lance and the two of them pushed back from the table and walked out of the house grinning. Yep. Just like old times.
Over the next hour, they worked with Tucker, the stable manager, to get the bulls ready. But even hosing them down, feeding them, and getting them riled up didn’t put Lucas at ease. He’d been purchasing and training bulls for McGowen for so long, he could spot a potential bovine champion, and these bulls didn’t seem to have it.
“You’re worried,” Lance said, standing next to him on the outside of the corral while Tucker gated Inferno.
Was his worry that obvious? That bull was supposed to be Lance’s best bet, but he didn’t have the fire, and Brady Jones would recognize that right away. “How much did you pay for him, again?” he asked, dreading the answer.
“A couple hundred grand.” Lance seemed to dread saying it, too. Lucas didn’t tell him he’d gotten screwed. He likely already knew.
The sound of a truck crawling up behind them made his stomach pull into a tight knot. Brady Jones got out and sauntered over, thumbs hooked into his belt loops, tall cowboy hat casting a shadow over his eyes. He was a good five years younger than their father, but his face was marked by a few scars and the same sun damage. “Gentlemen,” he said, giving each of them a hearty handshake.
“Good to see you, Jones. Thanks for coming,” Lance said.
“Surprised to see you here, Lucas.” The man eyed him suspiciously. “You give up on McGowen? Or just home for a visit?”
“Home for a visit,” he said quickly. Word would travel fast, and Bill McGowen would not appreciate the fact that Lucas was attending a meeting for the competition. He hung back and let Lance walk Jones around the facilities, showing off each of the bulls his brother had purchased.
When they came back to the fence, Lucas could tell Jones had already made a decision. He’d done enough business with the man to recognize that dispassionate expression. “Well, Cortez, I gotta say, I’m not seeing anything I haven’t seen before.” The man was always direct. It was something Lucas used to appreciate about him.
“You’ve got a good start here, but none of these guys are ready for the big stage.”
Lance didn’t seem to know what to say. He simply nodded.
Jones clapped him on the shoulder. “Give me a call in a few years when you’ve got more experience under your belt.”
“Sure. Of course.”
Lucas had to hand it to his brother. He wasn’t letting his disappointment show. But he could feel it, and he couldn’t let Lance lose what he’d worked for.
“Wait,” Lucas said, just as Jones started to retreat to his truck. The man stopped, turned, made a show of glancing at his watch. He didn’t like people wasting his time, but Lucas knew he’d want to hear him out. �
��Come back in a few weeks.” Preferably after the wedding.
Irritation pulled at the man’s mouth. “I shouldn’t have come this week. This operation isn’t ready.”
“He’s got another purchase in the works.”
“I do?” Lance mumbled.
Lucas shut him up with a look and strode over to Jones, facing him directly. “There’s a private auction next week. For one of Day of Reckoning’s offspring.” Day of Reckoning was the most decorated bovine champion to ever grace the sport. Bill McGowen had enlisted Lucas to go to the auction and outbid everyone else. He’d also told him not to spread the word, but Lance was desperate. Reckoning II had already competed in a few lower level events and he’d thrown every rider within three seconds. “Lance has an in and it’s looking like a done deal. So you’ll want to come back soon and take a look at him.”
“You get Reckoning’s offspring and I’ll be here,” Jones said. Without a goodbye, he climbed into his rig and left them in a cloud of dust.
His brother eyed him. “Let me guess. You’re supposed to purchase that bull for McGowen.”
He shrugged. “McGowen has plenty of bulls.” The man ran a multimillion-dollar operation. It wouldn’t kill him to lose out on one.
“I don’t know what I was thinking.” Lance glanced over at Inferno, still penned up in a stall. “I don’t have much more to invest in this.” Not a shock, considering all of the stock he’d purchased recently. His brother had won some significant purses and a championship last year, but that didn’t go so far when you were talking millions to get an operation up and running. And Lance had never gravitated toward the sponsorships to supplement his income the way Levi had.
“You can’t give up yet,” Lucas insisted. “We’ll sell some off some of your stock. All you need is one champion. I’ll help you figure it out.”
His brother seemed to assess him. “You gonna lose your job for this?”
“Maybe.” He hadn’t thought that far ahead when he’d mentioned the auction.
Comeback Cowboy Page 3